Hidden Scenes
by Stuffromybrain
Summary: Little parts of Merlin that have been left out. Starting at Beauty and the Beast part two. G/A, possible Merlin/Morgana later. Chapter 2:Merlin is playing Yenta . rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did there would be a lot more Morgana/Merlin and Tons more showy magic.

It was probably the shock. It was probably the shock of his father disinheriting him in front of God, Camelot and the entire court that made Arthur do it. It was the only thing he could really think of. Because there he was at Guinevere's door, without the memory of walking there, quietly repeating a mantra of "What in the— I don't understa— what just happened?" without his ever deciding to come. He wiped his hands over his eyes, trying to relax himself. Shakily, he dropped his hands at his side and looked up. Puzzled, and feeling a bit ill, Arthur turned to walk back to the castle. His eyes were drawn to the towering parapets, and he felt sicker. With Merlin gone, and the festivities of his father's marriage still raging, there was nothing there for him now. No reason to return.

He took a deep breath and began to think. Sudden thoughts made him dizzy. Should he appeal to the court? They would probably turn away in order to protect themselves. Should he search for something to break the bond between his father and the queen? He would be a hypocrite. Wasn't it just last week that he told Merlin that Catrina made Uther happy, and that was all that mattered? And he didn't need any more of a reason for his father to distrust him. Should he go to one of his uncles in the country side? There were certainly family friends, people that he had protected in the past that might take him in. somewhere he could go and recuperate, gain followers, train and help the people in the way that a crown prince might. He could go. He could leave Camelot.

A wide grin passed onto Arthur's face. His eyes glazed over and secret fantastic thoughts began to rage behind them. He could go anywhere. No more responsibilities! No more training day after day, no more fighting the not-so-mythical beasts that seemed to plague his father's house. No more parties, no more effortless jousts, no more courtiers and courtiers' daughters vying for his attention. He could do anything! He could become an adventurer, sailing the seas and fighting the barbarians from the north. He could turn to medicine and studying and become a wise healer. He could learn magic! Wouldn't that stick it to his father! He didn't need greatness either! He could go to Mercia or one of the other kingdoms, and become a farmer. Ha! Uther Pendragon's heir a farmer.

As he thought about it, the idea became more and more pleasant. He could go away from here and live an unassuming life. Perhaps not farming— he could do something with his hands. He could become a blacksmith's apprentice, and build his own forge and a reputation for good solid work. He could have a lovely little cottage and a barn with an actual garden away from the high stone walls of Camelot. He could settle down and have some Blacksmith's children with a Blacksmith's wife.

He imagined himself hammering down iron for whichever kingdom he found and the sturdy feminine hands of his wife grasping the rods and dropping them into that barrel filled with water that blacksmith's liked to use. He saw Tom use one on many occasions.

Arthur thought back to his wife's hands. In his minds eye they were darker and smooth, with thick skin and almond shaped nails. Arthur started and blushed. They were Gwen's hands.

Of course they were Gwen's hands. Lately when weren't the hands in his mind's Gwen's hands? He'd paid enough attention to them at the dinners and state functions lately to have memorized their contour. He'd though about her hands late at night when he couldn't sleep. He thought about her hands now, beautiful and strong, capable and direct moving to do their work impeccably and with honor. He thought about her hands on the nights when she nursed him the day of the tournament where he was injured. He imagined her hands on his shoulders, perhaps after a long day of smithing, her hands on his chest, on his face, on him everywhere. He wanted her hands to be his wife's hands.

And now maybe they could be. He was no longer the crown prince. He had no duty to Camelot any longer. He could marry who ever would marry him! His heart raced and he laughed loudly, tempted to jump up in the air.

There was no reason to wait or to pine any longer. He could reveal his feelings to Gwen and they would go off and live a happily- ever- after, and everything would be wonderful!

Only one problem Arthur, drawled the voice in the back of his head (that sounded suspiciously like Merlin). You don't know if she loves you back.

That damnable Lancelot. He was in the way. If only everything had gone according to plan, and He had been able to save Gwen. She would have fallen into his arms and helped them hack their way of out Hengist's lair and everything would have worked out just fine. Damnable Lancelot.

What was wrong with him! He was a Prince for crying out loud! The Best Prince in all of Albion thank you very much! He was honorable and just and damn handsome as well. If he was brave enough to take on a questing beast, a unicorn keeper and his father's wrath he was brave enough to tell Guinevere of his feelings and keep it together long enough to make it back to his bedroom if she denied him. He turned back to her door and knocked.

Nothing. After all of that, she wasn't even home. He waited a moment and tried again. He felt a fool, and turned around to walk home, only to find Guinevere standing right in front of him. His breath caught in his throat and he cleared it readjusting his head to its normal height.

"Hello Guinevere."

"Good day sire."

They stood in silence for a moment. He coughed into his sleeve.

" I—"

"Arthur, I heard what happened. I'm so sorry! And after all I'd just said. Maybe if I wasn't so stubborn and against Uther, Maybe if I'd encouraged you to apologize instead of encouraging your rebellion, I could have helped. I feel that this is in some way my fault."

He stared at her surprised for the second time that day. "Guinevere. Please. You had nothing to do with Uther's decision. It was the fault of no one but me. And perhaps the Queen. But we can do nothing now. Please I beg you, remove the burden of this from your shoulders."

She calmed and looked as if she were about to ask him what he was doing in front of her house when " I'm actually not that upset. Is that wrong? I was thinking about it and I feel as if a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I could do anything now Guinevere! I could leave Camelot and become a Blacksmith if I wanted!"

Her face turned sour. "You mustn't! How many times must I tell you Arthur? You are the hope of Camelot! You are the bright future for so many of us! You must go to the court and repeal this! You have to find some way to regain your title and reaffirm your position as heir to the throne."

Arthur's heart sank and he saw his dreams fly right out the window. He stared at the parapets once more. "I suppose you are right. When aren't you right?" He let out a breath of stale air. "I don't know what to do Guinevere. I have no allies. There is no one in court that will turn against Uther to me. Tell me what to do." She ushered him inside and began to make tea and think.

"We could go to the ceremony and overturn it! Find some reason to make her inadequate for the crown!"

"I don't think we have the time. I'm not familiar with the laws in the situation and I know virtually nothing about Catrina." He sat at the rough hewn table with his head in his hand. "If only Merlin were here."

"Could we send Morgana to appeal to Uther?" she plunked two mugs down in front of him

"He's been testy with the both of us lately. If he won't listen to his own son's counsel do you think he would listen to his ward's?" She nodded her head in agreement and for a few minutes they sipped their tea quietly, trying to think of anything that could help.

"I've got nothing Guinevere. I think that the best way to gain back Uther's favor, and perhaps the Queen's is to attend the ceremony and show my support. Maybe in time they'll see me as useful again, and I can regain their favor and my title."

Gwen glowered into her tea. While it did make sense, it had very little of the honorable fighting and heroic notions she had planned. She nodded and stood leaving her mug on the table and following Arthur up to the ceremony.

Author's Note: I have not written Fanfiction in about three ears. If this is awful, don't judge me. If I get some positive reviews I'll try to continue on with this story. Last night's episode was just itching for fanfiction. How I do love Fan Service.

I have low self esteem issues. Please be nice if you are going to give constructive criticism, ;)


	2. Clever

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Merlin. If I did there would be a lot more Gaius admonition/adoration hugs.

Merlin, contrary to the popular belief of the citizens of Camelot was not stupid. If fact, he was rather clever. He'd been the only boy in Ealdor that had had the patience to learn to read. He'd been the only child in Ealdor to escape his tiny village, and make his way to the capital city of Camelot. He knew the medicines Gaius prescribed were good, and he knew that he could make them if he tried. And one thing Merlin knew particularly well were loopholes.

Valiant's got a magic shield that shoot out killer-snakes? That's not an issue, just call them out independent of Valiant. Arthur's been bitten by a beast and there's no cure? No problem, go to Nimueh. Nimueh takes your mother's life instead of yours? Take hers instead of Gaius'. Merlin was good at loopholes.

So when Arthur told him that if he ever spoke of what happened in the tent again, he would kill him Merlin pulled out a classic lariat. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Which meant that talking Gwen about what happened in the tent was absolutely fine.

He found her in the lower town, carrying a basket of Morgana's laundry on her hip, her eyebrows furrowed together. He skidded through the crowd narrowly avoiding knocking down the vegetable vendor's cabbages. For the third time. That week. (Merlin was the first to admit that being clever didn't improve your equilibrium.)

"Merlin and Gwen together again." he looped his gangly arm through crook her arm made with the basket. Gwen looked up with a smirk.

"I think we've found your true calling Merlin! Who knew you were such a poet."

"Just about every one Gwen. It's one of my exalted talents! I think you were just a bit slow on the uptake." He smiled down at her letting out a breezy chuckle. She made no remark and kept her eyes on the ground as they walked. "Head in the clouds Gwenie?" At this she looked up sharply, her left eyebrow raised accusingly.

"Alright, no more 'Gwenie' then," He paused. "Is something the matter?" The trouble with clever people is that they know exactly how clever they are. And Merlin, being clever, knew exactly what was wrong.

And he also knew Gwen. And her complete incapability at speech when flustered. She started at least eight different sentences. "I— Nih— Wuh—," Until she let out her air on a "pfff" through her teeth.

"You might not want to hear it. It's quite feminine and I know men find those sorts of things boring."

"What are friends for if not to be bored by stories?"

They made their way to the well, which for midday, was surprisingly empty. They sat on the stone benches to the left of it and were quiet for a moment. The furrow returned to her eyebrows.

"I kissed Arthur."

"I assumed that's what happened."

"I mean I really kissed him. It was long. And he bent me backwards. And his arms were wrapped around me, and my hand was in his hair and I mean I Kissed Him!"

"Mmhmm?" He motioned for her to go on.

"And then he came to my house and he brought me a red rose, and this lovely letter, and he just looked so happy and hopeful and then—" she cut off abruptly.

"And then?" Merlin was virtually on the edge of his seat. In his mind the cogs were turning rapidly— what did this mean for the future of Camelot? What did this mean for them? And most importantly, was Arthur going to do something stupid?

When she began to speak again, it was almost imperceptible. "I told him we could never be. I told him he would have to fall in love with someone else."

Inner-Merlin jerked his head backwards as if he'd been slapped. Most definitely, Arthur was going to do something stupid. He was about to ask how he'd reacted when Gwen started to speak again.

"I've been carrying around the letter with me. I can't put it down." She tugged it, folded beneath pounds of laundry, out of the basket deftly and carefully as if she was afraid it would crumble in her hands. She looked at it uncomfortably and passed it to Merlin.

"May I?" She nodded he assent and he unfolded the parchment.

_To My Lady Guinevere, _(here Merlin took the time to note his incredible forgery skills. The handwriting in the note he left for Gwen looked exactly the same)

_I am not one that can easily express himself. I have little patience for bards and poems, and it is a well known fact in Camelot that I haven't any artistic talent. I am one for the lance, forward and true. Which is how I try to live my life. _

_I would be a coward and a hypocrite then if I did not tell you of my feelings for you out right. I am in the deepest sense of the word, in Love with you. There is barely a moment that passes when you do not fill my thoughts. When I dream of the future, of when I shall be king, it only seems right that you are by my side. You have the incredible talent of keeping me humble Guinevere. You make me think of more than armor and hunts— you make me think of the people and of my nation. _

_It is because of this that I know I will never marry or love another. Since Ealdor—perhaps long before— every other woman I have seen is compared to you, and pales in the comparison._

_I will not ask you to wait for me or even to choose me. This I think, would be a selfish act, and you would not approve. I will however let you know, that my heart is forever yours, should you ever find yourself in need of a friend, a partner or a lover. _

_Sincerely, and yours always _

_Arthur Pendragon_

When he came to the end of the letter, Merlin looked at Gwen and let out a "whew."

"Did you know that red roses signify sincere love, passion and respect?"

"I didn't know that."

"I didn't either. The woman who sells flowers down at the end of my street told me that when she saw me carrying the one Arthur left for me."

"I think it means the most that he respects me." She sniffed and kept her eyes locked on her shoes.

"What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. Do I run to him, and tell him my feelings or should I stick with my instincts and stay away?"

"What are your feelings?" Around them were the quite sounds of Camelot. A few birds singing in the courtyard, a child running her hands beneath the water of the well. In the distance they could hear the twanging swing of metal hitting metal, and by the frequency of the clashes and by the occasional yelps they heard, Merlin could tell that Arthur was working out his frustrations vigorously.

"I'm not sure! I feel strongly for Arthur, I do. But sometimes, I feel a twinge in my heart for… for Lancelot. And does that mean I don't love Arthur? Does that mean that I love Lancelot? I told him while we were in Hengist's lair that I felt strongly for him. Passionately even. There may have been a declaration of unyielding love. And if I tell Arthur the same, what does that mean? Does it make my word moot? Does it make me a liar or a trollop?"

Now it was Merlin having trouble speaking. He remembered his latest trip to the dragon's keep. Should he tell her? How could he tell her that she was Arthur's true love? He could take a leaf out of Arthur's book and go the forthright approach. No; he was too clever for that.

"I wouldn't say trollop. And I've never known you to lie. Perhaps you love them both, just in different ways. And I know this much is true— Lancelot isn't here. He isn't giving you roses and promising to love forever. And if I know Lancelot, he's too noble to come back now."

"Why?" She looked at him desperately and he begrudgingly told her that after the incident at Hengist's lair, Lancelot noticed the way that Arthur felt.

"When he became a knight, he pledged his allegiance to Camelot. And Arthur is Camelot. I think he feels like were he to woo you, he would be betraying that allegiance. Loving you is a selfishness. Though when you think about it, denying you is a selfishness as well."

"Merlin, are you supposed to be helping?"

"Sorry," he exhaled. "Gwen, I like Lancelot, but I don't like you and him together. I feel like he's an ideal. And now that he's gone he's more of a memory than a man. And as it is my sworn duty to praise the Crowned Prince Arthur at every turn…"

He studied her. The girl—more woman now— that he'd come to know in his time at Camelot. She was surer of herself nowadays. There were few times now when she would stutter or ramble on. This was causing her turmoil.

"Gwen, you don't have to do anything right now. You have time. You can think about your life and breathe. No ones forcing you to do anything. But think about it like this. Who makes you more of a person and not more of a pair. That's the person you want to be with."

"I like that Merlin, thank you."

They sat together for a few more moments before she bustled off to do Morgana's laundry. As she left, Merlin took in how relieved she looked and certain too.

He heard his name being shouted in the distance and scurried of to attend Arthur. He really was quite clever.

AN: So, I finally updated! Hurrah! Don't judge me, I'm applying to college. I was busy! Hope you enjoyed this little chapter. A thousand thank yous to my lovely reviewers.

Also: to my anonymous review who I made Roflcopter. I like that, I'm going to keep it and if anyone else mentions it, I'm going to say that it's dialectic punctuation.

Click Ze Button!


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